


Bonfire Night

by S_Faith



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2019-11-24 22:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Faith/pseuds/S_Faith
Summary: Important dates in one's relationship must be adequately commemorated.





	Bonfire Night

**Author's Note:**

> There's something to be said for positive reinforcement, too.
> 
> Disclaimer: Yep, still not mine. It's nice to play pretend, though.

For the first hour working at his desk that bleary Monday morning, his eye kept returning to his desk calendar, and he could not for the life of him figure out why the date that day was so meaningful to him, aside from it being Bonfire Night. He turned it over and over in his head until it clicked: what had happened last year on that very day, how that evening having dinner at his friend and colleague's house had proved to be a pivotal turning point for his relationship with the woman he now called fiancée.

He remembered a specific admonition delivered to him in the foyer of his home what felt like a lifetime ago during the rockiest point of their relationship, one pertaining to romance and spontaneity, and decided there was nothing to be done about it but to _do_ something thoughtfully romantic and spontaneous. He made a phone call and after a few short moments he had placed an order for the immediate delivery of a dozen long-stemmed roses and a card that read:

_B.—Celebrating the bravest thing I think I've ever done. I love you.—M._

The rest of the day went by like any other ordinary day. He got through working with a smile quirking the corner of his mouth; he could only imagine what her reaction would be to receive flowers at work, could only picture her bouncing on the balls of her feet, then dropping to bury her nose in the redolent buds….

That smile persisted through the drive to her flat, through parking the car at the kerb, walking up to the flat, letting himself in then scaling the stairs to the top floor. He turned the key in the lock, then quietly opened the door, stepped in and padded quietly up the stairs into the flat proper. Silence. He turned to survey the place; it was unusual that she wasn't there to greet him; perhaps she had not yet arrived home—

As he thought this, he heard rapidly running footfalls from behind him and turned back just in time to be quite literally jumped upon, arms around his neck, voracious kiss on his more than willing mouth.

"Beautiful," she said between kisses, fumbling to work his suit jacket button open, then pushed her hands up and against the cotton of his shirt. Those hands then moved around to his backside to squeeze it then pull him up against her. In the blink of an eye her hands were around to the front of his trousers to work open his belt buckle and tug down the fly; almost as quickly they were on his chest again, pushing him until he was backed up against the wall, pinning him there with her hands and mouth.

He was very good at taking hints and even better at taking the reins when it came to their spontaneous trysts, something that she had helped him to embrace. He reached forward, and in a quick motion had his hands against her bottom and picked her up. As he did this he also turned to press her against the wall.

As his hands breached the lower hem of her skirt and pushed it up, she broke the kiss to look at him with glittering blue eyes, as if wanting to catch the look of pleasure on his face when he discovered she wore nothing beneath. She then grinned and lunged forward to kiss him again.

With her firmly secured between himself and the wall, even as he moved rhythmically anticipating their union, he reached down with one hand in order to free himself. Anticipating equally, she began to moan and dig her nails hard into his shoulders. Once he was ready, he grabbed her arse again, lifted her slightly up before allowing gravity to bring her down again. He found his mark as true as ever, and once he had, he thrust hard up into her.

She groaned. She tried to hold on to him, her heels pressed into the backs of his thighs, her arms snaked around her neck, but the vigour of his motion meant she kept losing her grasp. Rather than being a nuisance, however, this seemed to heighten her pleasure.

He could feel his release building very, very quickly—not that she didn't always arouse him utterly and completely—and he felt himself lose control over his own voice, muttering coarsely near her ear exactly how much he loved her, how much she excited him, how much it turned him on to know he could bring her to a state of gasping, moaning, pink-cheeked pleasure.

With a great surge forward hard into her he came, completely surrendering to the moment and to the lushness of her; she breathed hotly onto his neck, biting his earlobe and squeezing her heels into him. As his climax waned he felt hers build ever stronger; as he kept thrusting her voice grew in strength, pleading for harder, faster, until, with a great cry she tried hard to restrain, she too found her release.

With all the strength he could muster he held on to her as he backed away from the wall, then carried her to the sofa, where he sat with her straddled upon his lap. He kissed her again then held her close, revelling in her sweet scent and her warmth.

He supposed her exclamation of 'Beautiful' had to do with the roses he had sent, and he chuckled. When she asked him what was so funny, he could only say, "Perhaps I should buy you roses more often. Can't imagine what I'd've come home to if I'd sent chocolate too."

At this she laughed out loud, reared back and kissed him again. "They are so, so beautiful," she said, tracing reverent fingers over the contours of his face. "And I am immensely thankful that you were as brave as you were that night, because otherwise…" Her eyes looked a bit misty. "I'd probably be hip-deep in Ben & Jerry's and eight stone heavier."

He brought both of his hands up to cradle her face. "I haven't always made the wisest decisions when it comes to emotional matters, darling, but I hope you'll always be here to steer me in the right direction."

"Surprising me out of the blue like this? Definitely the right direction."

He smiled tenderly, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "Good," he said, "because in so many ways I feel like I'm still learning." He then took his hands away from her face and brought them down to her backside, his thumbs then tracing arcs there. "And you're the best teacher I could have asked for."

With this she draped her arms around his neck, leaned forward and—well, he was expecting a kiss, but instead she curled into him, resting her cheek against the side of his neck, cradling the back of his head with her hand. He brought his arms up around her back and pressed his hands gently into her, holding her tightly to him. After a few minutes he realised she was making soft sounds, something that sounded an awful lot like…

"Darling?" he asked. "Are you crying?"

She sniffed, then laughed lightly. "Yeah. But it's because I'm happy, not sad." Her fingernails grazed lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck; she then turned to place her lips on the pulse there. He moved his head slightly, felt the dampness of her tears on his skin. His lips found hers and he kissed her, not with the fiery blaze of lusty passion he had when he'd arrived, but with the tenderness and veneration of soul-deep love.

"You, darling," she said quietly once they'd broken apart, her temple resting against his cheek, "are the very best student."

_The end._


End file.
